


Braids of Worried Hands

by Novicecomics



Series: Drabbles [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:02:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29408079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novicecomics/pseuds/Novicecomics
Summary: Izo and Thatch share a quiet moment alone to ease worries
Relationships: Izou/Thatch (One Piece)
Series: Drabbles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2160381
Kudos: 13





	Braids of Worried Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TwoBladeBae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TwoBladeBae/gifts).



Don't get Thatch wrong, he LOVES his pompadour but when it comes to Izo he makes one big exception. It'd been so many years by this point that he couldn't even remember how it all started. 

There were nights on the Moby Dick, treacherous and cold, with calm seas and turbulent minds. On these nights Izo liked to hunker down next to Thatch in some untrodden corner. Slim fingers blacken under the nails smelling strongly of gun powder would lace through his hair as intimately as any lover's. 

Thatch often found himself quietly leaning into the touch humming responses when it was appropriate while his partner would prattle on his worries or regale magnificent stories of strong willed samurai and his sister. That's what it always came around to: his sister. "It was nonsense to worry about a samurai!" Something about how dishonorable it was to presume they couldn't fend for themselves. At least, that's what Izo would boast about between quiet whispers of how she's doing and if she's eaten. Concerned that this goddess of a sister had been safe or foolishly gone to fight someone as strong as pops. 

He always wanted to wipe away the worries just like the tears that tumbled down that painted face, but he never had the words. Instead, he just let those wavering fingers make quick work of braiding his hair. Izo never said so, but there was an unspoken understanding that he'd done this so many times for his little sister. It must have calmed him to unconsciously share this sacred act with another he cared for. 

Izo always walked away from these moments a little more sure of himself and the world around them. As for Thatch, he would walk away the prettiest girl at the ball. At least until he slid into his bunk and meticulously unbraid his hair, feeling each knot tied by worry fall from his locks and disappear into the night. 

Thatch always had a pomp in the morning and Izo would have his strong morals, pride, and the knowledge that all was right in the days to come.


End file.
